Nocturnal Emissions
by LadySirius32158
Summary: In the middle of the night, all things are possible including Sirius Black's love for Remus Lupin. But when the lines between dreams and reality become blurred, what will happen to their friendship?
1. In the Heat of the Night

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman - and to my Remus - Amber - for whose friendship and devotion I shall be everlastingly grateful.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 1 - In the Heat of the Night

Nights are filled with visions of Remus Lupin - his image occupies every last available inch of Sirius Black's inner eye. All he has to do is shut his eyes and Remus is there, in all his lycanthropic glory, in all his incredible beauty. He is the lodestone to which Sirius' soul is magnetized, his voice the siren call which Sirius can do no less than obey, for he lost his heart to the other boy a long time ago, and there is nothing he can do - nothing he wishes to do - about it.

Nights are filled with the sound of Remus Lupin - for Sirius spends each and every day drinking in the dulcet tones of his beloved werewolf's voice, every moment that Sirius can garner is spent in Remus' company, speaking to him of everything and of nothing. The subject does not matter - whether it's classes, homework, family, friends, making plans for the hols or remembrances of occasions past - every word that proceeds from Remus' mouth is golden. And not a move does Sirius make in his life that he does not tell Remus about it - either beforehand or afterward. He seeks Remus at every turn, and he feels quite lost without him.

Nights are filled with the scent of Remus Lupin - for although Sirius does not possess the extraordinary sensitivity of the lycanthrope, his animagus ability has heightened his own natural senses, including the olfactory, and he smells him, is all too aware of the scent he exudes. Chocolate and spice and everything nice, that is what Remus Lupin is made of. And love - he smells of love. At least, to Sirius, he does. For Sirius is deeply in love with him, although he would die rather than admit it to him, for fear of losing him as a friend. And that would be too high a price to pay, even for the relief of confession.

And at the end of every evening, after a full day of basking in the presence of Remus Lupin as much as humanly possible, Sirius retires to his solitary bed - so achingly close to and yet at the same time so far away from that of his idol - and begins another long night. He can hear the even breathing of his friend, wrapped in the throes of innocent slumber, unaware that just a scant few feet from him he is the object of torrid night fancies, as Sirius brings out the memories of that day which he has stored away for these private moments, hoarding them as a squirrel hoards his cache of nuts, to be used when the original is unavailable for "consumption".

Unbeknownst to Remus, when the two boys chance to share a shower - and Sirius makes sure that that is more often than not - he is the object of close scrutiny by the horny animagus, who discovered early on the beauties of Remus' body, including but not limited to the size of his appendage. Try though he might to hide the self-inflicted scars of his curse, Sirius sees past those to the creamy white skin, the pale pink rosebuds that are his nipples, the golden mass of soft curls upon his head, and the topaz eyes which are the most beautiful and expressive eyes in the world.

These are the type of thoughts which fill Sirius' libido, as he slips out of his pajama bottoms, curls his slender fingers about his own lust-hardened cock, and begins to stroke himself, imagining that it is Remus that is touching him, Remus who is gazing at him with feral abandon, as he whispers, "My Siri... all mine..." Sirius' hand glides up and down the shaft, lubricated by the pre-cum which seeps from its tip, but it is Remus' ghostly hand which pleases him so, Remus' lips which press a gentle kiss upon the head before taking it into his mouth.

Sirius moans aloud - luckily he has had the forethought to set a silencing charm about his bed - urging his phantom lover to take more of him in, which he does. "Oh Remy," he breathes in heated gasps, as he fists himself in the urgency of his desire for Remus Lupin. "I love you, Siri, cum for me," the soft voice entices him, and he spills his love - and his seed - over his hand/into the mouth of the dream Remus, moaning his lover's name into the void. And the scent of his sex can be sensed by the occupant of the next bed, as Remus Lupin's topaz eyes snap open, his mouth forming a small o of amazement, as he drinks in the scent of Sirius' release - and wonders who or what is the object of his desire.

Christmas hols are a glorious time of year - a time to leave the cares and woes and the daily grind of studies behind and simply immerse oneself in the pleasures of youth. It is a tradition with the four Marauders, begun during their first year at the school, that they make the rounds of one another's homes at this time - except for Sirius' that is, for each year he asserts that it is not a good time for that, his parents are going to be away, etcetera, and his friends pretend to accept this but they realize there is more to the story than what Sirius is telling them, yet they do not press for details and take his words at face value, greatly to his relief. It doesn't take an analytical genius to realize that things are not right in the Black household, especially when they see the tense confrontations that occur between Sirius and his younger brother Regulus who, as have every other Black save for Sirius, been sorted into Slytherin house, and whatever affection might have existed between the two has long since disappeared, at least on the surface of things.

Each year the Potters', Pettigrews' and Lupins' smilingly coordinate their holiday activities to allow their sons to visit back and forth among them, taking turns to share Christmas Day equally from year to year. And they are all especially attentive to the normally outgoing young man who hides the pain of not being wanted by his own family - especially the Potters, who have adopted him as a second son - and they make sure that he is as well received and loved as their own children.

This year is no exception, and all are in high spirits as they celebrate their fifth year of friendship together. First they stay with James' family in their very comfortable home in Kent, for the Potters are certainly well off in the same way that the Blacks are, but unlike the Black family home at Grimmauld Place, the Potter home is cheery and bright and there is plenty of room for the four young men, who talk together into the wee hours of the night, planning mischief for each and every day. Next comes the Pettigrews' domicile, where they will wake up on Christmas morn this year. The Pettigrews are not as well off as either the Potters or the Lupins, but their home is warm and well cared for. But it is also small, so the boys are forced to double up in their sleeping arrangements. Which has never been a problem before, but somehow this year, it feels that way to Sirius, especially as he is given a bed to share with none other than... Remus.

It has been a most glorious Christmas eve day, spent in the company of Peter's parents. His dad is a surprisingly good cook, and the house is filled with the scents of the various dishes he has made this day, and with which the boys' stomachs are filled to overflowing. The Pettigrews have a modest, but prettily decorated Christmas tree in their living room, and that is where all assemble to sing carols and drink hot cocoa as Mrs. Pettigrew lights the decorative Yule candles upon the tree. Then the boys are shooed off to bed with the admonition that Santa Claus won't come if they are awake, and although they are too old to believe in such things - at least that is what they tell themselves - they crowd into Peter's room and sort themselves out into the two available beds, talking until such time as Mrs. P laughingly passes by their door, knocking upon it and telling them to stop. Soon, the sound of James' and Peter's voices trail away into variegated tones of slumber, and Remus too is breathing evenly, which is a relief to Sirius, for he is all too aware of the other boy's presence on the other side of this too small bed.

He closes his eyes, seeking refuge in his dreams, which come quickly enough, as he gives in to them, losing himself in the haven that is Remus once more.

He and Remus are together and they are dancing, although just where they are doing this is unclear, but they are pressed together so tightly that not a sliver of light can pass between their conjoined bodies, beneath the glow of a Christmas disco ball which swirls above their heads in frantically changing shades of red and green. They are alone, swaying to the music which resounds about them, their lips meshed perfectly, hands glued upon one another's bums. Grinding together in the urgency of their need for one another.

"Touch me," Remus whispers heatedly, and Sirius threads his hand between them, pressing against his crotch, as with his other arm he pulls him closer into his embrace. Oh how good that feels as he eagerly rubs against Remus' very large, very hard cock. Remus takes his hand, guides it inside the elastic of his waistband, and suddenly Sirius encounters bare flesh, very warm, very turgid, and very desirous. He wraps his hand about that flesh and begins to stroke, tentatively at first but with growing confidence, as he hears the gratifying sounds of Remus' soft whimpers of pleasure, touching him as he himself would wish to be pleasured, as he has no real knowledge or experience in this realm other than what he has learned at his own hand. "Kiss me," he begs, and of course Sirius does, with a growing passion he was not aware that he possessed. This is the most realistic dream he has ever had and he doesn't wish for it to end as he continues to stroke the object of his desire, their lips fused in passion...

...but of course it does, with Remus' hot release, which falls stickily over Sirius' grasp, as his nostrils are filled with the scent of it. How realistic it smells, how very different than before...

Sirius' eyes pop open with a start. To his dismay, Remus is not asleep on the other side of the bed. Rather, they are face to face, eyes open - and Merlin, does Sirius really have his hand in Remus' pants? And is it really sticky with his cum? Sirius withdraws his hand suddenly, his mouth falling open and closed in the manner of a startled fish, feeling the rising heat in his cheeks. What has he done _now_, and how can he ever face his friend again, knowing what he has done to him? "R-r-remy..." he stutters, but before the other boy can get a word in edgewise, he makes a quick dive from the bed and out the bedroom door. He can't breathe, he can't think, his brain is simply signalling to him to go, go now, get out of here before everyone discovers what you really are and asks you to leave them alone...

Sirius races blindly through the small house and out the front door - luckily he is so familiar with the home's interior that he doesn't trip on anything along the way in the frenzy of his exit - and he finds himself standing outside in the cold, shivering, in just his pair of pajama bottoms. He realizes he can't go back in there now, even just to get his clothes, cause he can't face Remus with the knowledge of what he has done. But he also knows he'll freeze to death if he doesn't do something, and in his distraught state he doesn't even remember that he doesn't have his wand with him. He doesn't dare go back to Hogwarts. Even if he could apparate there, there would be questions asked, questions he has no wish to answer. Reluctantly, he realizes that there is only one place where he can at least find some of his own clothes - #12 Grimmauld Place. Being Christmas Eve, his family is probably not even there, anyway, having probably taken Regulus somewhere warm for his hols. So that will leave just the house elves, with whom he has always been on good terms. That won't be so bad, will it?

Concentrating on what he is doing, rather than how he is feeling, and making sure he is where he can be unobserved, Sirius apparates away from the Pettigrew home, to his family's residence, completely unaware that he has indeed been observed by a distraught Remus Lupin, who stands in the doorway, calling out weakly, "Sirius..." but he is just a fraction of a second too late to be heard.


	2. Who's That Sleeping in My Bed?

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 2 - Who's That Sleeping in My Bed?

#12 Grimmauld Place is bleak and silent as Sirius regards it from the quiet street with a frown. But when is it not? That alone is not an indicator of the family's presence or lack thereof within. He approaches the house apprehensively. Luckily, being the middle of the night, no one is about to see him, as he slides open the door and steals into the house.

The foyer is completely dark, and not a sound does Sirius hear as he snakes his way up the narrow stairway toward the second floor, where his room is located. He wills his footfalls to silence, as if by the strength of his wishes alone, he can remain undetected. Foolish thought, for if that were true, then he would be able to... He stifles that line of reasoning quickly, not wishing to be reminded of what he has left behind, not right now. Or who.

So far, luck is with him. He eases open his bedroom door, quietly glides inside, and shuts it noiselessly, breathing a quick prayer of relief as he allows his vision to adjust to the different shades of darkness there, before he makes his way to his large armoire, which sits against one wall. He'll just grab something, anything. And then what? Where will he go then? He can't return to the Pettigrews', although he hasn't thought far enough ahead to wonder what they will make of his absence in the morning, or what Remus will do or say to explain it. Perhaps he should spend the night here, in his own bed, hide himself away until he can decide on his next move?

SIrius is startled by a noise behind him, a disembodied cough, and he freezes in place. Surely one of the house elves hasn't chosen this unfortunate time of night for some sort of cleaning ritual. He waits what feels like an eternity before he dares to move, slowing turning around, to discover what he hadn't noticed before - there is a lump in his bed, and his eyes widen at the sight. Regulus! That means that his parents are in the house as well. But what the devil is his brother doing in his bed? He hates him. At least that's the impression he gives off, the attitude he cops in their infrequent encounters.

But what does it matter? He is here, so Sirius has to leave, as quickly as possible. He reaches blindly inside the hulking piece of furniture. He would use his wand to help him see, but it has just occurred to him that he left it behind. Great. He's really been a grade A fuck-up tonight, hasn't he?

"Sirius? Wha-?" He hears the incredulous voice behind him, and he knows the jig is up. Damn. What to do now? He turns once more, half sheepishly, half defiantly, to face down his brother, who is quickly scooting out of the bed toward him. Sirius is completely defensive, should Regulus decide to hex him. And he knows his parents will back up their younger son in anything he does. Short of murder. Well, maybe even that. Sirius wouldn't want to bank on that either.

But Regulus does not pull his wand. Nor call his parents. He simply stands by his brother, as if he cannot believe he is there, still partially under the influence of Nepenthe, rubbing his eyes as if that will dispel the image of the boy standing before him. "What are you doing here?" he whispers, for once forgetting their enmity.

"I... I just needed some clothes," Sirius says lamely, aware of how poor his excuse sounds even to himself.

"Clothes? Why? And why aren't you with your friends?" There is more than a hint of suspicion in the voice, and Sirius begins to edge toward the door, holding whatever he has managed to grab from the armoire. He prays that it is at least a complete outfit, and that it matches even a little bit.

"Wait a sec!" Regulus holds up his hand, as if to forestall Sirius' exit. "At least take a look at what you've got, for Salalzar's sake." He sounds exasperated as he reaches for his wand, muttering a quick lumos. He points it toward his brother, and bites back a giggle. "You really intend to wear that somewhere, Sirius?"

Sirius looks down at his hands, where he is holding a blue silk pajama top, and a pair of old faded blue jeans with rips in both knees. "Damn," he mutters, not sure what is more embarrassing - these clothes, or his current predicament.

Regulus turns the wand toward Sirius' wardrobe, rummaging through the garments until he finds a pair of tan corduruoy pants, and a white buttondown blouse - Sirius has all of his tshirts with him, at the school, of course. But it's better than nothing. "Here," he said. "Siri, what's wrong? Did something happen?" The dark eyes he turns toward his brother are filled with filial concern.

Sirius sighs, tempted to tell his brother, well, if not everything, than something. At one time they had been so close. But not now. Not since Sirius had entered Hogwarts and was sorted into the "wrong" house. "Had a little misunderstanding," he compromises the truth. That is too close for comfort as it is. "I just wanted to be alone, that's all..."

"So you came back here?" Regulus frowns, before understanding begins to dawn upon his face. "Oh, you didn't think we'd be here, did you?"

Sirius shakes his head, too dispirited to dissemble. "Why are you in my bed?" he finally asks, having remembered that little bit of information.

"Um.. well..." Regulus hems and haws, "I just..." But there is a noise in the hall, and Walburga Black's voice can be heard.

"Regulus, sweetheart, are you talking to someone?" The two brothers hear the knob rattle as it begins to turn. Sirius' eyes turn saucersized as he wishes to die right this very minute.

"Just a minute, Mum," Regulus replies, as he frantically waves Sirius toward the window. "Go," he mouths, "I'll cover for you. Hurry!"

Sirius pauses for just a fraction of a second and without hesitation hugs his little brother, whispering, "Thanks, Reg," before he heads to the window. Opening it quickly, he shinnies across the roof and to the ground, something he's done many times before, and runs off up the street to consider his next move. All he knows is that he has to get away from this place, the sooner, the better. Get dressed and then take stock of the situation.

Mere seconds after he is out of sight, there is the pop of an apparation, and Remus Lupin, clutching his cloak about him, his eyes filled with deep concern for the boy he is chasing after, arrives upon the scene - again, mere seconds too late, although he doesn't realize it yet.


	3. A Sibling's Intervention

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 3 - A Sibling's Intervention

As Regulus watches until his brother is safely out of sight before going to the door to answer to his mother's inquisitiveness, he catches sight of movement in the yard below. What the hell? He squints at the distant figure. It appears to be one of Sirius' friends. He'd know them anywhere, seen them with him often enough. Sighing softly, he decides he needs to get to the bottom of things, see what has distressed his brother so greatly, see if there is anything he can do to rectify the situation. Assuming they will permit him to. He hastens to the door, reassures his mother that he was simply talking in his sleep, assuages her fears and waits until she returns to her own room, the sound of her closing door reaching his ears. Then he draws on his cloak, and exits the room the same way Sirius just had, reaching the ground silently, approaching the other boy, peering through the darkness to see which one it is. Oh, it is Lupin. Somehow that does not surprise Regulus.

"He just left," Regulus says softly, even as Remus whirls about, having detected his presence with his prenatural hearing.

Remus hesitates for a moment, as if unsure what to say or ask, but his concern for Sirius quickly outweighs any other consideration. "Is he alright?" he blurts out in frustration, biting at his lower lip. Regulus is an unknown quanitity with him, being both Sirius' brother as well as a Slytherin. Although he tries to get along with everyone, the snakes don't make it easy, and they aren't shy at showing their distaste for him and his less than pure blood. And he is also aware of disharmony in the Black household, aimed at his friend, but Sirius has never been forthcoming with details and he has always hesitated to press him in any way, or to upset him. But at the moment he doesn't have that luxury. And he knows that the brothers are at odds withone another.

"No," Regulus says bluntly, "I don't think he is. What happened?" HIs dark eyes piercing directly into Remus' topaz orbs.

Remus felt the heat rise in his cheeks, for of course he knows exactly what has happened between them, although why Sirius is running from him is not exactly clear - but he isn't about to share such information with his sibling. He is grateful for the cover of the night which shields his embarrassment. "H-he's upset about something. I - I just need to talk to him..."

Regulus regards the other boy, and he senses that he only has his brother's best interests at heart. And he intuits more, in a sudden flash of insight. "You love him, don't you?" he asks with the forthrightness of youth.

Remus doesn't bother to deny the accusation, nodding mutely.

"Then go after him, and make whatever is wrong right," Regulus insists. "Before my dumb brother gets himself into trouble..."

"He isn't dumb," Remus swiftly leaps to his friend's defense.

"I know he isn't. Nor normally," Regulus explains, "but when he's upset ... He just doesn't think, that's all. It's usually how he gets into trouble, you know?" And Remus knows exactly what the other boy means, he's seen it happen all too often before. Although he really wishes he understood why Sirius is so upset at this moment. But there is no time to lose.

"Where did he go?" he asks tersely.

Regulus shrugs. "I'm not sure. He took a change of clothes and headed off in that direction..." He points up the street in the direction in which he last saw his brother. "If he's not careful, he'll end up someplace bad. Please help him..."

Remus hears something in the voice, in the words, and he understands more than he did before. "You love him too, don't you?" Regulus nods silently.

"Thank you," Remus says, and suddenly he envelops the younger boy in a hug, before releasing him and disappearing up the street, in pursuit of Sirius. For several moments, Regulus does not move, but then he shinnies back up to his room, although he is unable to sleep, thinking of his brother, hoping that Remus finds him in time. And wondering if they will tell him if everything is alright or not. He sighs, biting his lower lip thoughtfully.

It's gonna be a long long night.


	4. Shelter From The Storm

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 4 - Shelter From the Storm

Sirius takes the first opportunity which presents itself to change into the clothes in his hands, pulling them on over his pajama bottoms. He had completely forgotten about shoes, though. Now what? Naturally he is barefoot, who wears shoes to sleep in? Well, he'd just have to grin and bear it for now. The streets are rough against his tender flesh, and damp, but so far he appears to be alone, although he isn't sure if that is a good thing or not.

His steps take him eventually toward the river, even as he debates on what he is going to do. At this moment, drowning himself in the murky waters of the Thames seems as viable an option as any to his emotionally overwrought mind. To his way of thinking he can't go back and he can't move forward. There is nowhere where he is welcome, or wanted. The weight of the world seems to rest squarely on his shoulders, as he approaches the river. The waters before him seem to ripple hypnotically, as if beckoning to him, murmuring his name.

It would mean an end to his pain, to his parents' torture, to everything... Why shouldn't he? Remove himself voluntarily from everyone's lives, enriching them by the so doing? What reason has he _not_ to?

Unbidden, an image comes to his mind. Remus. Always Remus. That's why he can't do this.

He sinks to his knees, and he begins to sob, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Oblivious to a presence behind him until he feels the hand upon his shoulder, and he recoils automatically, from habit. He whips around, reaching automatically for his wand, but of course he doesn't have it, and he gives the stranger a wary glance. "Wh-who are you?" he manages to choke out, finally, attempting to sound braver than he actually is, although he now begins to feel a bit of anger, which channels his emotions in a different direction. "What do you want?"

"I don't mean to intrude," the man says. He appears to be soft-spoken, well dressed, older than Sirius by at least a few years. Handsome. Tawny hair, blue eyes. Similar to Remus' colouring, actually, but without the scars. "It's too cold for you to sit out here barefoot," he points out. "Why don't you come with me, we can go somewhere warm, get you something to eat and drink. I'm sure you're hungry and thirsty..."

Sirius doesn't reply immediately, painfully aware of the cold, and that he has nowhere else he needs to be, at least in his own mind. But he is also suspicious of this stranger, and his apparent desire to be helpful to him. "I don't know you," he says, shaking his dark head. His head aches from the tears he has shed, and his heart is sore.

The stranger does not respond immediately. Suddenly having noticed the boy's unshod state, he glances about him, as if seeking something. Finding a couple of tin cans obviously thrown out by some passing slob, he glances once back at Sirius, and then about them as if to ascertain that they are quite alone, before he pulls a wand from his pocket, mutters something beneath his breath, and lo and behold, he is now holding a pair of shoes in his hands.

Sirius' eyes widen. So the man is a wizard, is he? Doesn't necessarily make him trustworthy, nonetheless. "No," Sirius shakes his stubborn head.

"Please, at least take the shoes, " the stranger insists, "whether or not you come with me." He sets them beside the boy, and backs away from him, palms spread downward in a soothing gesture. "There's a small pub up the road, Hen's Bane," he adds, "If you change your mind that is where I'll be." And without another word, he nods at Sirius, and walks away from him, in that same direction.

Sirius watches the man until he is out of sight, before reaching for the shoes. He is not surprised to discover that they are just his size, and he slips them easily onto his bare feet. Doesn't mean he's going to the pub, though. But what _is_ he going to do? Damned if he knows.

He sits beside the dark water, the lights of the muggle government buildings across the way catching his eye as he ponders on what exactly what it is that they do there. Sometimes there is much to be said for muggle technology, he thinks, as he is fairly sure their electric lights don't drip wax on you. Although right now he would give anything to possess his wand.

After a while he begins to walk along the river once more, wandering aimlessly, lost in the depths of his contemplation, his thoughts returning to his friends. Most particularly Remus J. Lupin. What is Remus doing? Is he telling James and Peter what happened, his revulsion at what Sirius has done, his hatred of him? Sirius doesn't know how he will bear it, having Remus despise him. How could he have ever been so stupid? And why does he have to love Remus so very much?

He is startled by sudden movement caught from the corner of one eye, as a dark figure comes into view. By the starlight he sees another man, an older man than the first one. This one walks with faltering step, his gait rather uneven, as he approaches closer to the boy. A bottle of something is in one hand, and Sirius' sensitive nose can smell the alcohol with which the stranger reeks. He wrinkles his nose instinctively, as it is a rather stale smell, and very unpleasant.

"'Ello, ello," the man sees Sirius, his face lighting as he directs his steps toward him. "Wot have we here? Out late, ducky, aren't you? Care for a bit of company?" The man attempts to put his arm around Sirius, who instantly pushes him away. "Ooh, you're a looker, you are. I wouldn't half mind 'aving a go at you, I wouldn't. 'Ere, luv, give us a kiss."

Sirius is horrified, not to mention disgusted and reviled, as the man attempts to force his attentions upon him, seeking his lips. What the fuck? Especially when Sirius' thoughts are all of the sweet beautiful boy whom he has actually tasted, albeit unknowingly. Which makes this man's advances all the more loathsome. Without pausing for thought, he brings up one knee, hard, and as the inebriate doubles over in pain, crying out harsh epithets, Sirius makes good his escape.

The die is now cast, and at this moment his only thought is to stay safe, so he begins to run as fast as he can in the direction he last saw the other man, praying that this pub is easily found, and that as it is a public place, he can come to no harm there. Hopefully.

He is completely unaware that Remus Lupin is once again one step behind him, and has arrived on the scene just as Sirius' figure has dwindled from view.


	5. Something Wicked This Way Comes

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 5 - Something Wicked This Way Comes

Remus Lupin is a severely baffled boy.

Baffled about what is going on on this very confusing night. Baffled about why his best friend Sirius Black is behaving the way he is. And baffled about where Sirius is going and why.

The only thing Remus is not baffled about is his feelings regarding said Sirius Black - he loves him with all his heart and always has. Which is why he made no objection to his being placed with Sirius in a single bed at the Pettigrews, unaware of any of the turmoil which raged in Sirius' heart. All he knew was that to be in such proximity to him was glorious, even though he was sure Sirius didn't feel the same way about him - after all, wasn't he the reigning sexgod of Hogwarts? Didn't he cut a swath through the females of the school as surely as ever sickle passed through strands of wheat?

Remus had been very much awake when Sirius had first touched him - and the shock of such a move had produced silence on the tawny haired boy's part, an unacknowledged acquiesence as their lips met for the first time, as their bodies ground gloriously together in the rhythm of their "dance". Remus had surely died and gone to heaven, that was the only possible explanation for what was happening to him, and somehow the otherwordliness of the entire encounter gave him the courage to voice his desire, as he whispered, "Touch me," and moved Sirius' hand inside his pajama bottoms. What followed then was pure bliss such as Remus had never experienced before, for he had never been touched this way by anyone, and even his own touch was nothing as compared to Sirius'. He couldn't have kept from having an orgasm if he'd tried - and he certainly didn't try - and it was just as strong and just as incredible as he had always imagined it would be.

So why had Sirius looked at him that way, and why had he jumped from the bed as if he'd just been scalded, running into the night without so much as a single word, or a backward glance?

Remus Lupin is a severely baffled boy.

And not only that but he always seems to find himself just a step behind Sirius in this convoluted game of cat and mouse which he is fairly sure Sirius is unaware that they are playing. First at Grimmauld, where he had had a very interesting conversation with Sirius' brother Regulus. And now by the river, where all that can be seen is Sirius' distant figure, once again on the run. And a doubled-over wretch retching onto the embankment. Remus has a suspicion that that is Sirius' doing, and if so he is sure that there is no information to be gleaned here. So he moves onward, quickening his pace, attempting to reach the boy that he loves so much.

Sirius' heart is thumping unbearably, and he is fleeing as if the devil himself were at his heels - for all he knows the pervert has recovered his wind and is in close pursuit. Now, where is that pub, please let me find it, he murmurs to himself as if it were a prayer. Surely it must be within plain view or else why mention it? But he is almost convinced it doesn't exist when suddenly he spies it - Hen's Bane reads the dingy sign, barely legible in the dark. But Sirius needs to know no more as he quickly looks around him, ascertaining that he is indeed alone, and ducks inside the door.

The interior of this place is even darker than the exterior, if that is possible. At first Sirius is content to lean against the door, letting his pulse return to normal, allow his heart to stop its bass drum configurations. Gradually he becomes more aware of his surroundings, of the sound of voices talking in low tones, of figures milling about, mostly in twos, at tables, at the bar, and on the dance floor. And to Sirius' surprise, they are all male. What sort of place it this, he wonders to himself. But before he can gather his thoughts, or decide whether or not he even wishes to stay, he feels his arm being taken in a firm manner, and a deep voice. "Merlin, they grow them younger here all the time. Let me buy you a drink, pretty..."

Sirius' first inclination is to snatch his arm away, but the man is strong, and once again he instinctively reaches for his wand, only to come up empty. But before he can make a reply, he hears another voice, which supersedes the first, and sounds a bit familiar.

"Ah, here you are, then, glad to see you found the place all right. Thanks for looking after him, mate, but I can take it from here..." and he was led off by the second hand, the first dropping away, albeit reluctantly. Sirius looked up to find the man from the embankment - the first one, the one who could pass for an older version of Remus. He even wears a gentle smile, like his friend.

"Sorry about that," he apologizes, "in a place like this, you are undoubtedly a sight to behold, you're so pretty." Sirius blushes at his words, never having been referred to in that way before. "Come, let's get a room where you won't be bothered by all of this. Don't worry, I won't try anything," he hastily assures the boy, and before Sirius knows it they are alone in a room off of a hallway. There is a table in the center of the room, with two chairs. Just the table and a fireplace. The man casts an incendio upon the hearth and a cheery blaze comes to life.

"Sit, sit please," he urges Sirius, who takes a seat, albeit gingerly, and with much misgivings, poised at the edge as if prepared to take flight. "What would you like to drink? Firewhiskey? Ale? Or perhaps you prefer rum?" He looks at him questioningly.

Sirius decides to play it safe, using common sense, for once. "Tea is good," he replies, tossing back the hair that insists on falling into his face. He can't stop thinking about Remus, and he wishes he hadn't fled quite so quickly. But he doesn't know what else he could have done, considering... His mind returns to what has happened, and he can't help but recall the touch of Remus Lupin, the taste of his lips... Sighing aloud, he turns toward the fire, presenting the profile of a melancholy young pup to the older man. A very desireable melancholy young pup.

"Then tea it is," he says brightly, as he rings for tea for two. "My name is Gabriel, by the way, what would yours be?"

Sirius hesitates for a moment, before replying carefully, "Orion." Not a lie, but not the total truth either. For some reason, he is reluctant to give his first name to this man.

"Lovely name," the other comments, "you have very starlike qualities, young Orion." His smile his warm, his manner kind. Why does Sirius regard him with distrust? He doesn't know himself.

"Are you warm enough? Would you like the fire higher?" Gabriel asks solicitiously, moving one hand toward the boy, who flinches involuntarily.

"No, thank you, I'm fine," he insists.

"Don't be afraid, I mean you no harm," Gabriel assures him, more insistently as he pushes a stray tendril back behind Sirius' year. "I'm only concerned about you, that's all." Sirius is afraid that if he encourages him, the man will come even closer, but he is afraid to look rude by pulling away. A quandary indeed. He looks poised to kiss. Maybe, under other circumstances, Sirius might have found him attractive, despite his age - he must be every bit of twenty-five - but all he can think about is Remus. All that he wants is Remus. And all that he can't have is Remus.

Just at that moment fate intervenes, in the form of a young man who bears a tray with the tea things which he places upon the table, asking if they wish him to serve. "No, thank you," Gabriel smiles, "we'll be just fine." He bows to them both and discreetly withdraws. Sirius wonders at the gleam in the young man's eyes, as if he feels there is something going on that is amusing, but he can't for the life of him think what.

"What sort of place is this?" he asks, as the other pours the warm liquid into two delicate cups. Gabriel quirks an eyebrow at him at the question.

"What do you mean by that?" he replies, "it's a pub. You've been to pubs before, haven't you, surely?"

"Yes, but not one like this with only men," Sirius blurts out, and as he speaks the realization of just what sort of place this is hits him. "Oh," he says, his mouth forming an o of amazement.

Gabriel smiles at the dawning awareness on the boy's face. "This is a gay pub, yes," he confirms. "And yes, I am quite gay. Damn," he swears as he drops a teaspoon upon the floor. "Would you mind?"

Sirius is glad of an excuse to break the other's gaze and innocently goes after the dropped utensil, unaware that Gabriel has just taken a small vial from an inner pocket and poured some of the contents into his cup. By the time he returns the spoon to its former position, there is nothing to be seen.

"There you go," Gabriel says, with a warm smile. "That should make you feel better..."

Sirius takes the cup, cradling it at first in his hands, the warmth of it quite soothing to him, before tasting the contents. It is quite good, actually, and before he realizes it, he has drained the cup.

"Why don't we go to my place and continue our conversation there?" Gabriel suggests.

"No, I don't think so," Sirius insists, sensing that he really should go. Now. Warning bells have begun to sound in his head, and he feels the sudden need to leave. Rising, he heads toward the door. But something isn't quite right here. Everything is assuming a hazy outline, and his muscles don't seem to be obeying him. And his throat has closed up to the point where he doesn't feel he can utter a word.

"Yes, good idea," Gabriel says, as if Sirius has actually agreed with him. He rises as well, places a securing arm about the boy's waist, ushering him toward the door. "It isn't far, love, and once we are there, I promise you that you will have a very lovely time indeed..."

He opens the door, and helps the unresisting boy through it. Sirius finds that he can do nothing to stop him, can not even cry out for help, his voice trapped inside of him. His eyes look fearfully about him as he feels himself being moved like some sort of a pawn, his body not under his control at all. What is going to happen to him, and how can he get out of this mess?

Once outside the pub, Gabriel pauses for a moment to exchange a word with someone who is passing by, but Sirius cannot hear them. He begins to slump, but instantly Gabriel is by his side, propping him up. And suddenly the older man has fastened his lips upon Sirius', and is kissing him fiercely, while Sirius is helpless to resist. Merlin, he thinks, please, please help me...

... when through the fog that is his brain, he hears a strangely familiar voice, "Let go of him this instant!"


	6. Prince Charming to the Rescue

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 6 - Prince Charming to the Rescue

Sirius struggles against whatever has him held fast within its grip, and his youthfulness stands him in good stead, as he pushes his way through the sluggishness that is his brain. He feels his lips being released, although Gabriel maintains a firm hold about his waist. Which in a way is good as his legs feel as if they've been hit by the jelly-legs curse. His eyes turn toward the voice that has serendipitously interrupted the unwelcomed kiss, and his heart thrills to see Remus standing there, wand drawn toward the other wizard. But he is also very much confused. How... what... why? However this doesn't seem to be the time for such questions. Priorities, after all.

"Let go of him!" Remus repeats, and in his normally calm voice a warning growl can be heard, as if the wolf is about to become unleashed, and a feral yellow glow can be seen in his usually topaz eyes.

Gabriel seems amused, rather than perturbed, at the interruption, at the sudden appearance of the youth, and his own wand is now drawn and in his hand. "I'm afraid that this is none of your business, sir," he says politely enough, "this is between myself... and my boyfriend... So if you would excuse us..." And he begins to draw Sirius backwards, never lowering his wand as he does so, eyes carefully trained upon Remus.

"I'm afraid you are mistaken," Remus replies evenly, taking a menacing step forward, "he isn't _your_ boyfriend at all..."

"Oh?" Gabriel pauses and arches a tawny eyebrow at the other - eerie how closely they resemble one another. "And what makes you think that? I don't hear Orion disagreeing with me, do you?"

If Remus is taken aback by the name, he shows no sign of it. Knowing of course that Orion is Sirius' middle name. "Because he is _my_ boyfriend, and I've been looking for him. So, if you would be so kind..." And he reaches out for Sirius' hand.

Sirius finds himself automatically reacting, his body attempting to reach toward Remus', even if he has no idea why his friend is saying what he is. It doesn't matter. Remus is here, and Remus represents security to him, and he wants nothing more than to leave this place and be with him, forgetting everything that has happened, forgetting everything other than the fact that he loves him more than anything in the world. And he would like this nightmare to end, please.

"You're an underage wizard, little one," Gabriel smirks, "I don't think you should even try anything with me. You aren't allowed to use magic outside of school, and well I know it..."

"If I'm underage, what do you think he is?" Remus replies with great aplomb. "What do you think the law would think of what you intend to do to him?"

"That is none of your business," Gabriel flushes an angry red, drawing Sirius even closer, "he didn't have to come here, you know? He came of his own free will. What do you have to say to that?"

Remus pauses, unsure of what to respond, since he has no real idea what has led up to this. But he knows Sirius too well to think it's what the other man thinks it is. And one glance into Sirius' obviously glazed eyes convinces him. "I don't know why he came," he admits, "but I can see that you've done something to him, something wrong. And I won't let you go through with... whatever you have in mind. Enough talk, give him back to me. Now..." His tone is quiet, but there is an underlying menace to his voice which cannot be denied.

Sirius finds his own voice for the first time since this terrible scene has begun. "Let go of me," he says, and the words sound far away, even to his own ears, as he attempts to struggle against the arm which surrounds him, but to no avail. He raises his eyes to meet those of Remus', and he feels nothing but comfort emanating from them for him. Comfort and reassurance.

"Don't worry, you'll change your tune, love, when I get you home," Gabriel assures him, stroking Sirius' cheek softly, which causes the boy to flinch, a gesture not lost on Remus, who begins to growl, "you'll forget all about this...little boy... when you see what a man can offer..."

Remus looks as if he is about to pounce on Gabriel, his young muscles tensing, his glance never wavering, when fate decides to intervene first. From the pub, another man appears, and upon spying Gabriel he hastens toward him.

"Come Gabriel," he says without preamble, "word has just been received that the Ministry is on its way to raid the pub, we must get away from here. You remember what your father said last time you were caught here?" He notices the two boys, then, and the apparent tension between the three, adding, "Never mind them, we must fly now."

The other man grimaces at his words, but releases Sirius without ceremony, pushing him in Remus' direction, who catches him handily. "Mark my words, Orion," he sneers, "we _shall_ meet again. Come!" This last spoken peremptorily to his friend, as they immediately apparate away from this place.

Remus realizes that they don't need to be here either when the Ministry arrives, but for other reasons. He looks with concern into Sirius' dark blue eyes. "We have to leave here, do you think you can walk if I help you?"

Sirius nods, some measure of feeling beginning to return to his extremities. He wants nothing more than to be as far as possible from this horrid place.

Remus puts a supportive arm about Sirius, and leads him back the way they have originally come, although separately, but now together, not daring to apparate at the moment, as he fears the arrival of the Ministry at any time. "Where should we go?" he speculates aloud, for he is completely unfamiliar with this part of London, having been to Sirius' home only once before and that strictly by chance, otherwise he could not have found his way there this night. Which obviously would have been a bad thing. "Back to the Pettigrews?" He wonders to himself what will happen when James and Peter - not to mention Peter's parents - discover both boys' absences, although his primary concern at the moment is all for Sirius, and taking care of Sirius, all his protective instincts coming to the fore.

"No," Sirius says quickly, and Remus does not argue. Right now he is content that they are together, and Sirius is safe. The rest can wait.

They walk in silence until they reach the river once more, and Remus can feel that Sirius' strength is failing him, although he does not complain, but he can sense it in the way he increasingly leans upon him. Remus tightens his grip about him, as he leads him off of the road, toward a bench that he spies there, lowering the boy onto the seat and taking up a position beside him, not removing his arm even now.

"Siri, are you alright?" he asks, gazing into those dark blue orbs - good thing he has excellent night vision - wondering if it is his imagination or are his eyes a bit clearer than they were before?

"Remy, I don't... I mean..." Sirius stammers, unsure of just what he means to say, all too aware of the warmth of Remus' body, his own responding without his volition. "I... I would never hurt you..."

"Of course you wouldn't, I know you wouldn't," Remus replies soothingly, his hand almost reaching out to stroke the other boy's cheek, catching himself just in time. It wouldn't do to take advantage of Sirius in this unguarded state, although obviously the older man had no such compunctions about doing so.

The two boys lapse into a momentary silence, as if each is evaluating the situation, deciding what to do.

"Sirius, why are you running from me?" Remus asks pointblank, his topaz eyes searching the other's dark blue orbs as if for answers to the question which has haunted him ever since Sirius' abrupt departure.

Sirius' eyes grow big - surely Remus knows, he was there after all. He was the victim in all this, Sirius the aggressor. The deviant. How can he even bear to be around him? And how can he explain his own actions?

A soft rustling from behind them stills any reply he might have made, and they both glance up fearfully, afraid that they have been followed - either by the predatory Gabriel, or by the Ministry, neither thought exactly being a pleasant one. But no, it is the concerned visage of Sirius' younger brother that greets them.

"Is he alright?" he asks Remus worriedly. He has not been able to sleep, and has passed by this spot more than once, as he patrols the street, waiting for any sign of the two boys.

"Reg?" Sirius is simply bewildered at his brother's presence.

"He is now, I think," Remus replies, biting his lip, for he has no wish to speak of what has happened, wishes to forget what could have been far worse than it was, which brings a shudder to his slender frame.

"So, are you going back to the Pettigrews?"

"No, we can't, the Ministry is somewhere nearby and we don't dare apparate right now..."

Regulus understands, the Ministry is known to be harsh to those who violate unlicensed apparation, as well as underage magic laws. He watches his brother seem to droop against Remus, and his eyes meet those of the other, knowingly. He is glad Sirius is safe, but he appears to be a bit the worse for wear. Perhaps they will tell him the story later.

"Come back to the house," he says impulsively, "you can't stay out here, after all, and I think you both need some sleep."

Remus shakes his head determinedly. "How can we do that? Your parents wouldn't allow me to step foot in their house. And I... I can't leave Sirius there, not like this...I know how she is toward him, and I just can't do it..." It isn't like him to be this firm with anyone, but he is protecting Sirius, and for him, he will play the hawk.

Regulus can not deny the veracity of that statement, for he is too aware of the truthfulness of it himself. He furrows his brow, puzzling over what exactly they can do, before finally he says, "I'll sneak you into the house, she doesn't have to know. Her room is at the top of the house, I can hide you in a bedroom on the second floor. She'll never notice, cause she never goes in there. And I'll come and get you when they leave, I think they have some business with L ... with someone... " he hastily amends, for he knows better than to discuss the Dark Lord with others, especially those who have no reason to be allied with him. "I'll tell them that I don't feel well, so I'll stay behind." There, everything settled.

Remus is irresolute. Much as he hates the idea of being inside that house, he knows that Sirius needs to be somewhere safer than this place, they both need to regroup. And to talk privately. Maybe, if Regulus can do as he says he can, they can bide their time for a bit, and then floo back to the Pettigrews or something? He glances at Sirius, and catches him looking at him, his eyes naked with ... what? Fear? Nervousness? Or is there something there that Remus has missed before? Could it be...

"We'll do it," he says at last, realizing time is indeed of the essence, and he has no time to hash out the mystery. They could be overrun by Ministry officials at any time, after all.

"Come," Regulus says tersely, and turns back the way he has come. Remus helps Sirius to his feet, and they follow silently after Sirius' brother. Remus wouldn't trade this moment for anything, the warmth of Sirius' body against his own - he can hear the soft susurrations of his gentle breathing, the rhythm of his beating heart. If Remus were braver, he would take Sirius' hand in his, but he dare not do that.

When they reach the dark and brooding Grimmauld once more, Regulus goes ahead of them, entering the house first, and ensuring that the coast is clear, before beckoning them inside. One finger to his lips to enjoin silence, he moves ahead of them, up the stairs, to the second floor. The house is still as a tomb, silencing charms no doubt, to ensure that the work of the house elves does not impinge upon the sleep of the inhabitants. Down the hall they move, but not toward Sirius' room - that would be taking a chance. However, there are extra bedrooms that are not in use, and he ushers them into one.

"I'll put a privacy ward on the room," he tells Remus, and the boy flushes at the implication, but does not argue with him. "I won't be back for a few hours, I'm sure. When I do, I'll knock first." Remus nods, whispers, "Thank you," warmly, in gratitude for the chance that Regulus is undoubtedly taking. The younger boy blushes, unused to such gratitude, and without another word, glides out of the door, leaving Remus and Sirius alone at last.

Remus looks about them - this room is sparsely furnished. Bed, table, chest. Nothing more. Then he glances at Sirius. Not surprisingly the animagus is watching him. Alright, Remus, he says to himself, where do we go from here?


	7. The Sweetest Thing

TITLE: Nocturnal Emissions

AUTHOR: Lady Sirius

PAIRING: RL/SB

RATING: NC17

FEEDBACK: Of course all rights to Harry Potter belong to JK Rowling

- I only wish that Sirius and Remus were mine, other than in my heart!

DEDICATION: To my glorious, talented, wondrous and everlastingly sexy

inspiration - Gary Oldman.

Nocturnal Emissions

Chapter 7 - The Sweetest Thing

They are alone now. Completely alone in a spare bedroom in Sirius' parents' house. All too aware of the presence each of the other. As well as what has gone before. So, they must each be thinking - what happens now?

"Why don't we sit down and talk?" Remus suggests, indicating the bed behind them. Sirius looks unsure of the wisdom of this suggestion, but as there is really no other furniture, he does as he is asked, taking a seat on the very edge, obviously nervous. Remus sits beside him, his hands spread flat upon his thighs, as if to keep them from reaching out to touch Sirius, a move that would undoubtedly spook the boy.

"Sirius, will you please answer my question..."

Of course Sirius knows which one, the one he was grateful to have avoided when Regulus came upon them so fortuitously, the one he really doesn't care to answer now. The one he also knows he can't avoid forever. But, being Sirius, he does it in his own inimitable way.

"Remus, do you hate me now?" His voice is low-pitched, even though he knows silencing charms are in effect, as if he is afraid to speak too loudly, or as if he does not have the will to do so.

"Hate you? Hate you, Sirius?" The idea is simply ludricous. "I could never hate you. Aren't we best friends?"

Sirius nods.

"Then how could I hate you?"

A reasonable assumption. Logical even. But Sirius isn't exactly in his most logical frame of mind at this moment.

"Sirius, about what happened... back at Peter's house..."

Sirius winces. This is it, the moment he has dreaded, the point at which he will have to account for his own actions, atone for what he has done. And the only explanation he can give - which just happens to be the truth - is that he was dreaming about Remus, about being with him. The truth is that Sirius loves him so much it hurts. He has these feelings for him he doesn't know how to deal with. And how can he explain that touching Remus was pure bliss, and how badly he wishes he could do it again, but while they're both awake? He can't. At least he doesn't think he can.

Remus continues, in the same soft voice. But Sirius is acutely aware of every word. "Are you sorry... that you... did that?"

Sirius swallows. Hard. How easy it would be to say yes, I'm sorry, I won't ever touch you like that again - it was a mistake, it wasn't meant to happen. But that isn't the truth. And he finds that he cannot lie to Remus. Not now or ever. "No..." He closes his eyes, not wishing to see the expression of disgust that is undoubtedly falling over Remus' face even now at this admission.

But what he hears, instead, is a soft sigh of relief. Confused, he peeps at Remus from between his long dark lashes. Remus is staring at him, with the most strangely rapt expression upon his lovely face. He reaches for Sirius' hand, holds it firmly within his own. "I was glad that you did that," he admits shyly. "It made me... happy..."

Sirius' eyes snap open now. How can they not? He has either gone stark raving mad, hallucinating - although a lovely hallucination indeed, mind you - or Remus has just admitted to wanting him in the same way he wants Remus? Can it be? He holds his breath, thunderstruck, not sure what he is waiting for, but something is coming, he can feel it.

And sure enough, Remus has closed the distance between them, his lips brushing across Sirius', softly at first, then with a growing passion, as the other boy begins to respond himself. Their arms automatically fall into place as they fit together, two pieces of an interlocking puzzle, caught up in the wonder of this kiss. A kiss which endures until they are both forced to come up for air, albeit reluctantly, gazing starstruck at one another - or in Sirius' case moonstruck - as if each is unable to believe the amazing good fortune which has befallen him.

"I've liked you for a long time," Remus says shyly, but with growing confidence, rubbing his thumb gently over the back of Sirius' hand, held so lovingly now within his own. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was... afraid.. that you would hate me for telling you. But the truth is, Sirius, I'm in love with you." His eyes are cast down as he makes this daring admission, afraid he has gone too far. Until he feels Sirius' hand upon his chin, tilting his face up towards his.

"I love you too," Sirius says simply, and kisses him quietly. And once again they lose themselves in the wonder of the kiss.

It isn't until he feels Sirius utterly relaxing in his embrace that Remus realizes that he must be exhausted, and he has been through a terrible ordeal. Clucking like a mother hen, he urges Sirius to lie back upon the bed, although the animagus is loath to do so.

"I'm not tired, Remy," he protests, but his drooping eyelids put paid to the lie, and reluctantly, he allows himself to be settled beneath the covers, but only after Remus promises to stay right with him, and they curl up together like puppies, as close to one another as they can get. Remus watches over Sirius as he quickly falls asleep. How angelic he looks, how peaceful, now. Remus says a silent prayer to Merlin, before he joins him in slumber...

... at least for a while...

Sirius has been dreaming again - of Remus, of course - but this time when he feels the other boy's lips, he opens his eyes and he knows that this is all real, they are really together, and he returns the kiss with interest, all thought of sleep falling by the wayside. Their bodies are rubbing together heatedly, the fabric of their clothing only serving to increase the friction between them, the urgency.

Remus' fingers nimbly release the buttons of Sirius' cords, allowing his swollen cock to spring forth gratefully. Sirius can barely believe that this is the same Remus who has always seemed so very shy and demure - this boy is lustfilled and wanton - and Sirius moans at his touch, as he takes the lead. "Touch me," Sirius pleads, and Remus is more than happy to comply.

He wraps his slender fingers about Sirius' erection, tenderly, yet firmly. His topaz eyes glow as he meets Sirius' gaze. They are both simply amazed at the wonder of it all, at being here like this, together.

"Oh, Remy," Sirius moans, and the other boy steals his lips softly.

Hesitantly at first, but with a growing assurance, Remus glides his hand over the surface of Sirius' cock, over the head, which is damp with precum - a good thing, cause he uses it to facilitate his movements. How good Sirius feels to him, how natural, as if this were always meant to be, which he truly believes that it was. He and Sirius. Fate has brought them together, and love will keep them together.

He kisses him with a fierce possessiveness - now that he has him, he is not about to let him go, not for anything. And the wolf within growls, for with this bond that they are forging, he is perforce included by necessity. And not only has Moony chosen Sirius/Padfoot as his one and only mate, he would die to protect him/them.

Sirius cannot help but instinctively thrust upwards into Remus' grasp. "Remy, I want to feel you too, please..."

How can Remus refuse that voice, those words? He cannot, as they both scramble to remove their clothes, briefly interrupting their activites in order to gain so much more. Until they are both bare, flush with excitement, each quite tumescent. They wind their arms about one another, their hips rocking toward one another as their erections begin to grind together excitedly in the urgency of their lovemaking.

They are two innocents, yet they are obeying the call of urges, of instincts far older than either one of them.

Lips entwined in harmony, bodies pressed together. Remus assumes the dominant position over Sirius without even stopping to think about it, it is simply natural. And Sirius allows it for the same reason. They move their hips, participating in the age old ceremony known as frottage, their hard cocks harmoniously grinding together fervently, their lips enmeshed as they bring one another to a joint climax, mutually arrived at, clinging together as their fluids mingle freely between them.

They collapse together at last in a sweaty sticky heap of satisfaction, breathing heavily, smiling blissfully, falling into a light doze until a soft rap upon the door brings them back to reality, and they hastily spring from the bed and don their clothes before cautiously opening the door to admit Regulus. He sees their flushed cheeks, the rumpled bed - it isn't hard to draw conclusions, after all, and Regulus Black is far from stupid. Besides, he had Remus' admission that he loves Sirius - he can only extrapolate that his brother returns those feelings.

"So," he says nonchalantly, "is anybody going to tell me what's been going on?" He crosses his arms, leans back against the door, looking from one boy to the other expectantly.

"We... we had a slight misunderstanding," Sirius mumbles softly, his eyes seeking Remus', for support, for comfort, "but it's over now... And Reg, thanks for... for everything... and not telling our parents about this..."

"About what?" Regulus' eyes flash mischievously. "How are you going back to the Pettigrews' if you can't apparate?"

Remus and Sirius exchange dismayed glances. "Maybe we could floo?" Remus suggests tentatively.

"Is that where you want to go?" Sirius asks, unsure of the reception they will meet with.

"We should go back, they'll be wondering about us, Sirius, they'll be worried..."

Sirius sighs, knowing that Remus is undoubtedly correct. "But how can we explain... well, everything?" he asks.

Remus' topaz eyes grow big, and he claps a hand over his mouth. "Sirius, we have to go back, today is Christmas! I've left your present there, and everyone else's!" How can he have forgotten that most elemental fact - that today is Christmas day, and they have no choice but to return? "Happy Christmas, Regulus," he quickly adds.

"Remus, it doesn't matter," Sirius protests, "I don't need anything... Happy Christmas, Reg," he hastily interjects, "I have what I want already... I mean..." He blushes prettily, but Remus knows what he means, of course.

It is Regulus who points out the obvious, as the two starstruck boys stand there, looking at one another. "Oh for Merlin's sake, kiss and get it over with!" He rolls his eyes in exasperation.

Have they been so obvious, Sirius wonders, but before he can say a word Remus has pulled him into his arms and their lips have met most sweetly.

"Merry Christmas, Sirius..."

"Merry Christmas, Remus..."

And in that moment, the two boys realize that everything will be alright, everything will work out just fine. As long as they are together. They bid farewell to Regulus with hugs and thanks, and one after the other they floo back to the Pettigrews to begin their explanations - and their happily ever after.

The End (or just the beginning?)


End file.
